


The Mojave's A Free Bitch, Baby

by stpitbull



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stpitbull/pseuds/stpitbull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh god LET ME EXPLAIN. There was a prompt on the kinkmeme for "Lady Gaga in the wasteland" and I thought "pff how silly" and then I thought about it and THIS HAPPENED I'M SORRY</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sadie's legs felt like they were on fire. She could practically hear Arcade in her ear, scolding her for not packing enough protein or whatever, just judging her for not being as smart in him in some way. She could hear Boone gruffly scolding her for traveling alone, especially through Legion territory. She could hear Cass scolding her for not bringing enough booze. She could hear herself telling them all that they could go fuck themselves.   
  
She trudged forward, the cold night air of the desert amplifying everything, every place where she hurt. Stopping would be stupid. Stopping meant her body would settle and she would freeze and die or something. But she was cold and hungry and dealing with a serious level of bloodloss and just wanted to go home so she could tell her friends to go fuck themselves.   
  
" _There was never a man, like my Johnny..._ "   
  
She held up her wrist, looked down at her Pip-Boy. "I swear to god, lady, I will  _punch you in the face_ ."   
  
She started fiddling with the tuning knobs out of frustration, just trying to find something else, anything else. Even one of those creepy pre-war numbers stations would do at this point, so long as the numbers weren't about Johnny Guitar. She missed Tabitha. Tabitha made sense. She had spent maybe half an hour following Tabitha and Rhonda making her case as for why she should totally get to follow them so they could have adventures throughout the wastes. She realized, now, that her first mistake was trying to use logic, but still. It was the one heartbreak she would never heal from.   
  
Static crackled to life on her Pip-Boy and she turned the knobs with more care, standing still, a voice becoming clearer as she got closer to her target.   
  
" _...ghting the injustices of those who would tell you that you have any less right to a beautiful life than they do. And so, I remind you to fight for a better tomorrow. Fight for truth, beauty, equality. We can make it happen, my little monsters._ "   
  
Sadie sat down.   
  
" _And now, some music._ "   
  
It sounded like nothing Radio New Vegas had to offer. Nothing even Black Mountain Radio had to offer. It sounded like ED-E had hired Fisto for a weekend, but with singing on top. Something about a guy named Alejandro. It was... weird. Sadie flicked off the radio, grunting in frustration, and resumed walking.   
  
She made it about ten steps before she flicked the radio back on. She was seated against a boulder again and setting up a campfire when she realized she was already softly singing along with the chorus.

" _Boys and girls and inbetweens and out-of-sights of the beautiful Mojave,_ " there was the DJ again, and Sadie realized she was the woman singing over the robot-fuck cacophony, " _this is Mother Monster, hoping the night finds you true. Hoping the night finds you hungry and in love._ "   
  
"I'll find  _you_  hungry and in love," Sadie muttered under her breath, rubbing her hands together by the fire and thinking of ways to warm up for the road.   
  
" _Little monsters, we must not ever grow complacent, never lose our hunger. For our paradise is threatened by creatures of hate and indignity._ "   
  
Sadie dug around in her rucksack, found an old pair of trousers. She had tucked away a bit of needle-and-thread she found in an abandoned old house earlier -- maybe she could rip up the trousers and make herself an ugly jacket.   
  
" _The bull is stomping at our ground, threatening to stomp out our freedom._ "   
  
Sadie pulled her blade from her boot and started cutting up the black canvas trousers. Whoever this crazy Mother Monster was, Sadie figured, she couldn't be all bad if she hated the Legion.   
  
" _From the other direction comes the bear, threatening to eat up our land, bring in the pestilence of inequality and hate._ "   
  
Sadie nodded to herself, impressed. Wondered who this lady was.  _Where_  she was.   
  
" _But we will stand strong, won't we, little monsters? We will keep fighting for the independence and freedom that we deserve. We were born free, and we will let them know that free is how we intend to stay. We will let them know that we were born this way._ "   
  
Another song fired up, the one that Sadie would be singing to herself when she strutted back onto the Strip the next day. For the night, though, she sat by her fire, sewing herself a jacket and listening to this weird, wonderful woman play her robot-fuck music and give self-important soliloquies on independence and self-indentification and hats, at one point. The barest sliver of sunrise was visible on the horizon when Mother Monster, as Sadie was assuming she was called, bade a fond farewell to her little monsters of the Mojave and wished them a dangerous day.   
  
Sadie marked the spot on her map. No way in hell was she letting this slip out of her life.   



	2. Chapter 2

Sadie had grown accustomed to the odd sideways looks and doubletakes that her homemade jacket was getting, sewn from parts of black canvas trousers with pauldrons made of dog hide. She held her head high -- it was warm and comfortable and she wasn't going to take it off. Evening was settling in when she reached the Strip, and she wore the monstrosity proudly as she made her way to the Lucky 38.   
  
There were the muffled sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen, soft voices and the smells of frying gecko. Sadie made for her room and with a great heave of her shoulder unloaded her rucksack, letting it  _thunk_  gently to the floor and rolling the muscles of her overworked back. Next trip definitely called for a pack brahmin or two.   
  
No. Next trip called for everyone who would come with her, so she could expose them to Mother Monster. It'd be like her final test to see if they were truly worthy to live in her sweet pad -- their reactions to her new hero.   
  
Sadie stretched languidly, heard a sharp clatter from the kitchen followed by the sounds of Veronica and Cass laughing and Lily loudly scolding them that Arcade was a growing boy and of course he'd be a little clumsy while still adjusting to puberty. Travel was Sadie's trade, but damn did it feel nice to be coming home to a... well, a home. She conducted her favorite homecoming ritual -- shucking off her shoes and digging her bare toes in the carpet.   
  
"The look on your face when you do that, boss," she jumped slightly as she heard the voice, "I swear, I wonder if I've  _ever_  felt anything that good."   
  
Sadie turned to see Raul sitting on one of the couches, magazine in his lap. "Damn," she said, "good thing I stopped at the shoes."   
  
Raul gave her a wry smile. "You kidding, boss? Take it off. And by 'it', I mean that horrible jacket."   
  
"Hey!" Sadie said defensively, clutching protectively at her furry pauldrons. "You leave my horrible jacket the hell alone."   
  
"I'm serious, mija, it looks like a pair of dogs got in a fight with an oversized cazador. And everyone lost. Especially my eyes."   
  
Sadie sighed happily, flopping down on the couch beside him. "Raul, let's get married."   
  
"Like I could be tied down, cariña," he said, lifting his magazine so she could stretch her legs across his lap and setting it back down, wrists resting on her shins.   
  
"I'm keeping this jacket," she said resolutely. "This is my new signature jacket. I'm thinking of adding raven feathers." Raul gave a soft groan. "Maybe metal studs."   
  
"You'll be a style icon in no time," Raul said flatly, attentions turned back to reading. "Did I say icon? I meant pariah."   
  
"More like  _messiah_ ."

Raul chuckled and shook his head. There was a quick knock on the doorframe of the master bedroom and Lily poked her enormous head in. "Good to see you're home safe from your little trip, dumpling!" she cooed at Sadie.   
  
"Lily, you're reasonable," Raul said. "Tell Jimmy here that no grandson of yours is going to be prancing around in that hideous jacket."   
  
"Granma, I made this jacket in arts and crafts and everyone's being mean to me about it," Sadie said. She had never pouted in her life but goddammit she'd do it to get Lily on her side.   
  
"Oh, sweetie, don't you waste one minute worrying what anyone has to say," Lily said indulgently with a flip of her giant purple hand. "I think your jacket is very creative."   
  
"See?" Sadie said, looking at Raul. "Very creative."   
  
"Creative don't mean 'good'."   
  
"Anyway, pumpkin," Lily continued, "just wanted to make sure you washed up before dinner."   
  
Nothing said "home and relatively safe" like playing Jimmy for Lily, so Sadie gamely swung her legs off of Raul's lap and made for the bathroom, dutifully scrubbing her hands. She hadn't realized she had been quietly humming one of Mother Monster's songs to herself until Cass's voice came from behind her, "Please don't start singin'. Your singin' makes me feel like that jacket of yours looks."   
  
  
  
"I think you may want to rephrase that," Arcade said.   
  
"Yeah," Boone said over his shoulder as he washed the dishes. "Nothing good usually follows 'I need you to follow me to this random place out in the desert'."   
  
Arcade looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Usually?" Boone just shrugged, his word quota met for the day.   
  
"I am really not selling how essential it is that you guys come with me," Sadie said, sitting cross-legged at the end of the table.   
  
"Because of some radio station?" Arcade said. "And the birthplace of that  _thing_  you won't take off?"   
  
Sadie gave a frustrated sound. "You don't understand! It is the weirdest shit I have ever heard and I am  _obsessed with it_ !"   
  
Arcade sighed. "Do you have any destination that's more specific than 'somewhere in the desert'?"   
  
Sadie held up her left wrist. "Right here on my Pip-Boy."   
  
There was a moment where Arcade just studied her, arms crossed and expression full of scrutiny. "You're going to just keep needling and begging until we agree to go, aren't you?"   
  
Sadie sighed affectionately. "You know me so well, Arcade."   



End file.
